


Taming the Beast

by visual_attitude



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Males, Angel Castiel, Angry Sex, Dean Being an Asshole, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Fight Sex, Fluff and Smut, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Castiel, Possessive Derek, Power Bottom Dean, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Sassy Stiles Stilinski, Stiles is Derek's Anchor, Sub Stiles, Submission, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Dean, Voyeurism, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visual_attitude/pseuds/visual_attitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Castiel, Derek and Stiles have discovered how the nights of a full moon affect their personalities in one way or another. This more than often results in Dean and Derek fighting over the alpha-male position and the right to claim Stiles' ass, when really Cas is the one plotting the details of their lunar sexcapades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a headcanon for my friend and will now most likely result in a series of Stestiel (Sterek/Destiel) ficlets. Those fuckers give me the weirdest kinks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles wake up after a "rough night". Derek discovers traces of a certain someone's obvious dominance issues.

Stiles and Derek had spent the night of the full moon in Dean's basement - as usual.

Those nights were always the best and worst. Sure, the sex was awesome, but sometimes Stiles needed more than just to be fucked senseless by his wolf and the hunter until he couldn't walk or breathe or _anything_ anymore.

Derek was lying on a small couch in the corner of the cold room. Stiles was cradled in a blanket on the floor before it - the perks of being a submissive little cockslut.

He had been awake for a while now, although he asked himself how he wasn't in a coma already. He had been intensly observing the sleeping figure for what seemed like hours and his expression lightened up when he finally saw some movement on the couch.

Derek sighed and yawned a few times, turned around and stretched almost cat-like which earned a quiet chuckle from Stiles. This man just amazed him sometimes.  
Derek squinted through one eye and grunted a low "What?" down at him. "And Good Morning to you, sunshine." Stiles beamed at him, resting his chin on the edge of the couch to make puppy dog eyes at the face before him. Damn.

Derek sure was one handsome son of a bitch.

His blue eyes just stared for a while before the corners of his mouth slightly curled up into a smile and a hand reached lazily in Stiles’ general direction. Slender fingers got hold of some dark strands of hair that messily covered the boy’s forehead, twisting them playfully between two digits.

“Still alive, I see?” “You know, I always am.”

Derek patted Stiles’ rosy cheek sympathetically and pushed back the red satin cover. “Well, -“ He swung himself gracefully into a sitting postion. “Dean did mess you up pretty hard last night. Let me have a look.”

Stiles pouted, but did what he was asked to do. He always did. That was part of their whole dynamic, sexual or not. The woolen blanket hung loosely around his slender figure when he got up to pose in front of his partner.

There was a moment of silence and Stiles looked nervously around the room. “You will have to lose that blanket eventually.” “Huh? Oh yeah, sure…”

Still he hesitated. Derek hardly ever let him put on clothes after their little encounters unless _he_ said so. The older one of course had slept safe and sound in black boxer briefs and a matching tank top. So practically all that was under the fabric of Stiles’ cover now was skin. Pale, bruised skin that was sprinkled with various remains of last night’s sexcapade, almost blending in perfectly with the freckles covering his body.

His cheeks flushed to a deep red as he let the cover slide down his torso. Sure, he had been embarassed before. But this was different. This was more intimate. He pressed his lips together, still avoiding Derek’s investigative eyes.

“Come closer.” a raspy voice commanded softly.

When Stiles finally shifted in Derek’s direction he was gently pulled closer by his hip and turned around slowly for examination. The taller man traced over bruises and parts where the skin was to some extent covered with bite marks and imprints of fingernails, but also a mark under Stiles’ chin which appeared to be the form of a gun's muzzle that had been pressed there before.

Derek got up for a closer inspection, squinting through glacier eyes. He carelessly tilted Stiles’ chin upwards which caused the boy to inhale sharply through clenched teeth.

“I’m going to fucking kill him…” the tone of Derek’s voice had changed to a threatening growl and he already fought back the urge of raging himself into his wolf-form.

Dean! That bastard. It was one thing to share Stiles for acting out their kinks and dominance issues, but no one was allowed to fuck with his boyfriend - at least not in this kind of sense.

Derek picked up the blanket from the floor and swung it around Stiles’ shoulders, wrapping him in. He gently rubbed the warm material against the boy’s trembling figure.

“I can take care of myself. I’m not a child, you know.” Stiles protested half-heartedly against this display of affection. “No you’re not.” Derek agreed and pulled him even closer, ghosting a kiss on his lips.

“But you’re mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just write mild fluff? O.o
> 
> Not beta'd. So all faults are my own. English is not my native language.  
> Please feel free to leave comments for ideas or questions.  
> Chapter 6 in progress  
> STESTIEL FOREVER


	2. Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek confronts Dean about manhandling Stiles. Cas observes the 'conversation', ready to jump in if things should escalate.

Breakfast was without doubt Dean’s favourite part of waking up in the morning. A steaming cup of coffee, simple toast layered with a thick slice of butter and strawberry jam - that was all the hunter needed to regain his stamina.

 

Cas was sitting in the chair next to him, absently browsing the newspaper for possible new cases. The occasional turning of pages and a random song on the radio were the only sounds disturbing the blissful morning silence.

 

That was- until they heard the slamming of a door and someone stomping towards the kitchen. A _very_ unamused Derek eventually showed up in the door frame, furiously gazing in Dean’s direction.

 

“Well, somebody _obviously_ needs his caffeine” the hunter wryly remarked, raising a brow at him.

 

Derek stormed into the room and built himself up in front of Dean, who had now gotten up from his seat. He could sense the wolf _might_ not just be in a bad mood, but actually _very_ pissed.

 

And he was proven to be right when Derek hissed at him “Who the FUCK do you think you are?!” But Dean just continued staring at him, still pretty much unimpressed.

 

Cas peeked over the edge of his newspaper, observing the younger men. This was going to be very entertaining. Two wanna-be alpha males arguing about redefining boundaries of messy full-moon orgies. Indeed. Very amusing sometimes, those humans. _(Or semi-humans in Derek’s case)_

 

“Well, for starters” Dean scoffed- “I am someone who doesn’t like being yelled at by a guy who is in desperate need of some toothpaste.”

 

“Oh, now you’re just being rude.” Cas commented from the background. It was like watching a freaking reality TV show.

 

Derek had a hard time containing his anger. It was not just the snotty comments and Dean’s indifferent gaze that almost made the wolf lose it. It was the way in which the hunter tried to justify his actions, the arrogant assumption that he never did _anything_ wrong. Derek figured that it would probably be best to just slit that cocky bastard’s throat. For a second there, he actually entertained the thought of acting upon his impulse. At least it would surely wipe that smug grin off his fucking face once and for all.

 

Derek was already about to lunge out when Cas interrupted, trying to prevent what was about to turn into a messy fight. “Whoah guys…! Chillax.” he said in an intermediate voice.

 

“Chill- what?” both Dean and Derek were inadvertantly thrown off their guard.

 

“Yeah. It’s- an expression.” Regardless of how convinced Cas tried make things sound, he would still search for affirmation in Dean’s eyes.

 

“Yeah, if you were a prepubescent teenager from like 20 years ago.” Dean scoffed back at him, earning the well-known squinty look.

 

“Well, it’s not of import now.” Cas tried to change the subject. “What the hell is the problem with you two anyways?”

 

“That fucking Winchester is a reckless bastard, THAT’s the problem” Derek barked and threw a deadly glance at the hunter.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh come on!” This was starting to get annoying. “You’re totally blowing this out of proportion, dude!”

 

“You. Brought. A freaking gun!?” Derek emphasized the outrage this fact evidently presented to him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

“Oh please…” the hunter snorted. “It wasn’t even loaded.”

 

Why couldn’t Derek just let a guy toy with his guns once in a while? Also, Dean was _pretty_ sure he wasn’t the only one who got a kick out of it.

 

“Just- shut the fuck up!” Derek spat out his words, barely in control of  his transformation now.

 

“Okay, Hale. I’ll tell you what. –“ Dean offered with a mischievous smirk. “Next time, I’m gonna shove it up his ass. Then you will be able to see just _how much he actually likes it_.”

 

The hunter obviously wasn’t prepared for what was coming next.

 

Derek’s fist blatantly collided with his jaw, reeling him around and making him lose his balance. Dean stumbled for a second before he ungracefully collapsed over the kitchen counter behind him. Yet he kept his will not to be the losing party in this argument and threw a challenging glance at Derek.

 

“Is that all you got?” he taunted.

 

The wolf let out a deep growl in the back of his throat. You could practically sense the tension in the room rising.

 

This was Cas’ cue to get up and shift between the arguing men. He could feel that something was about to to go horribly wrong unless he interfered - unless he stopped Dean from being a mouthy bastard and Derek from giving in into his lycanthropy. Which – admittedly - would be a _much_ bigger problem than the self-satisfied prancing of a hunter with boundary issues.

 

The wolf had more than often proved that within seconds, he could become a killer unless he controlled his animalistic instincts. And Cas knew that these urges were in most cases triggered by raising Derek’s pulse, which was exactly what Dean was doing right now. The Winchester was always seeking trouble. Provoking him, finding his weak spots and pushing them over and over, until Derek snapped and started to transform - fortunately, not this time.

 

Cas held up his hands towards both of them, sweeping them back a few steps by using the celestial strength given to him. The threatening red glow of Derek’s eyes decreased before he let out a defeated howl and retreated a few more inches. Although he didn’t like to admit it - Cas was a whole lot stronger than him.

 

The angel gradually lowered his arms again and was now facing his partner. “Dean.” his voice dropped. “You _seriously_ need to get rid of your devil-may-care attitude.” He then turned to face Derek. “And _you_ -“ he dramatically wagged his index finger at him. “If you ever lay a hand on _my_ boyfriend again that way - I swear you will live to regret it.”

 

Derek and Dean remained equally stunned when the angel finally stepped back to his chair and sat down, skillfully ignoring what had just happened. They couldn’t quite figure out what the hell was going on. They just stood there, somewhat paralysed. Derek browsed Cas’ face for any clues.

 

“What?” he raised a brow at the wolf. They always seemed to forget what a powerful being he could actually be.

 

“I’m an angel, you _ass_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Derek eventually calm down? Will Dean reconsider his behaviour? Find out in upcoming chapters. :)
> 
> I love protective!Cas and protective!Derek okay? *w*
> 
> Not beta'd. So all faults are my own. English is not my native language.  
> Please feel free to leave comments for ideas or questions.  
> Chapter 6 in progress.


	3. Anger Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean struggles with his aggression. But Cas realizes that the hunter's anger isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Shortly after Derek had left the kitchen in a hurry, Dean was stuck with bringing some order into the mess their ‘disagreement’ had left behind. Several pieces of inventory were splattered over the floor and it truly was a miracle that this time, Dean had gotten out of their brawl with nothing more than some superficial injuries. A few scratches on his arms and a bruise on his jaw were the only witnesses to what had happened just an hour ago.

 

Cas was observing the hunter this whole time, getting that feeling he was obviously upset. But he just let Dean stoically clean the kitchen, even watched him throw away his beloved breakfast. He clearly lost his appetite after this little incident. Nevertheless Cas knew that approaching the matter at hand would only make Dean more angry and so he decided to leave him alone – for now. The only thing that was really bugging the angel was how Dean had become so silent that it was almost scary. This couldn’t be a good sign. It usually meant an agressive outburst was inevitable, and once again Cas would have to be the one to deal with his anger. Great.

 

When Dean was finally done he shot a quick glance at his partner and turned to leave the room, the angel getting up to follow him. They walked up the stairs towards their room. It seemed like talking about Dean’s apparent problem here and now would be a deadly sin. And sometimes, Cas admitted to himself, it kind of was.

 

The angel had barely closed the bedroom door behind them when Dean suddenly burst out rambling about ‘kicking that freak of nature’s head in’ next time he would see Derek. The hunter furiously started pacing the room, walking up and down, muttering curses and insulting the wolf he allegedly hated so much. Cas sat down on their bed, watching Dean’s every move. He was studying his behaviour, always on the lookout for warning signs. The Winchester had a talent for seriously overreacting to problems of lesser nature and thus raging himself into a stage where it was nearly impossible - even for Cas - to calm him down.

 

“Dean…” he gently tried to interrupt his rant. But the hunter just continued rambling, his arms gesturing wildly into the air. “Dean.” - he didn’t respond. His voice was almost cracking with anger while his face furiously flushed to a dangerous shade of red. “Dean!” the angel’s voice was now impatient. And yet, Dean appeared to be unreceptive to everything around him. Cas let out a slightly annoyed sigh and got up to interfere with Dean’s walking, causing the taller one to walk right into his partner. “Cas, what the hell?!” he barked at him. “Tryin’ to be angry here!” He turned around to pick up where he left off when Cas grabbed him by his shoulder. He was reeled around so now they were facing each other again. “Hold still.” the angel instructed.

 

A hand reached out to Dean’s chin. The hunter opened his mouth in disbelief as Cas inspected his bruised jaw, gently turning his head to the side. It took Dean a while to remember his initial protest, but eventually he chose to ignore the fact that he will probably never be able to read emotions, let alone intentions, in Cas’ face. “You done?” he snarled and raised a brow at him.

 

Irritated by his tone, Cas squinted at him before gently - but determinedly - shoving him towards the bed. The hunter inadvertantly had to sit down when Cas shifted closer and cupped his face with his right hand. Dean gripped the angel’s wrist in mild protest, already guessing what he was about to do. A bright white light was glowing around the bruised area of Dean’s jaw. Then it disappeared just a few moments later, revealing nothing but perfectly intact skin. The hunter absent-mindedly traced his fingers over the healed jaw. “You didn’t have to do that.” Cas noticed how the hunter’s voice had softened. Dean realized that he probably took out his anger on the wrong person. And out of all people, he took it out on his partner.

 

“I _wouldn’t_ have to do that if you finally learned how to control your anger.” Cas remarked with a similar soft tone. “And whose side are you on?” Dean instantly regretted raising his voice and put up his hands in a soothing gesture. “I’m sorry, Cas… It’s just- “ he searched for the right words. “The mere presence of that fucker pisses me off so much sometimes!” It was true Dean had his issues with rushing from one trouble into another, but he figured it wasn’t his place alone to stop these childish feuds from happening.

 

“Well, actually…” the angel’s voice had gotten darker as his gaze hovered over Dean’s body. “There is one upside to your agression.” His partner furrowed his brow with confusion. “You’re fucking hot when you’re angry.” Dean mouthed a silent _“What?”_ , wondering when their conversation had changed its course so drastically. “Also,” Cas continued with a wide grin. “it seems like you’re getting off on it, too” He nodded towards the apparent bulge in Dean’s crotch.

 

The hunter started stuttering, obviously caught by surprise by the angel’s observation. He was about to justify his body’s reaction, when suddenly Cas dropped to his knees and slowly began to rub Dean’s growing hardness through the rough denim fabric, causing his partner to sharply gasp for air. Dean watched his boyfriend’s hands and mouth caressing his most sensitive area, and he bit down on his lip when slender fingers reached out to unbuckle his belt.

 

Cas taunted him some more. “I know you enjoy driving people to the edge, testing their patience. Just to see exactly _how_ long it will take until they snap.” “It’s… it’s not like that - ugh!” Dean’s answer was nothing more than a whisper. His head dropped back, his breathing becoming increasingly unsteady. Cas began to slowly unbutton Dean’s pants and opening the zipper. He started to grind harder against the thin black material of the hunter’s boxer briefs.

 

Dean could feel a sudden hotness through the fabric when the angel started to lightly run his lips along the restrained erection. “Well,” he breathed teasingly against black cotton. “Let’s see how long _you_ can last before I make you scream for mercy.” With one fluent motion, Cas pulled down the boxers and took in the whole length of the hunter’s cock, making him moan in an obscenely hoarse voice. “Holy shit!” Dean gripped the sheets tightly. But just as he was about to surrender to the overwhelming sensation, Cas pulled back completely, leaving the hunter sitting there with one ridiculously disappointed look. “No. Not yet” the angel smirked and just barely scratched over the flesh, playfully tracing his fingertips along the shaft and letting his tongue flick over Dean’s sizeable dick. He didn’t give him too much though. Never enough to actually get him off.

 

“Oh god, Cas… Please!” Dean whimpered. “Not.- Yet.” The angel emphasized each word. He pulled the hunter’s underwear up again, restraining the painfully hardened cock. It was no surprise that this resulted in a very distinct “ _What the fuck?”_ look. Rather unimpressed by the apparent protest, Cas got back on his feet and moved closer. “You’ll have to earn it.” His partner looked slightly puzzled, so Cas unzipped his suit pants and gently pulled Dean towards his crotch. Responding to this - admittedly very shallow - hint, Dean slid down Cas’ pants and white boxers, for a second there just admiring the sight of the angel’s already half-hard cock. He moistened his lips and began kissing the base and licking his way up to the top. He smudged drops of pre-cum over the pulsating flesh, running his thumb over the tip.

 

Cas’ moans dropped another octave when his partner took him in his mouth completely. The hunter let his gifted tongue swirl around the head of the cock, synchronising the circular movement with one hand on the base. The angel was gripping the back of Dean’s head more tightly, gently setting a quickened pace. Dean hollowed his cheeks and was sucking hard now, making Cas a little light-headed for a second. “Dean, stop.” He wouldn’t last long if this continued. The hunter looked up at him, grinning diabolically around Cas’ dick. This was revenge.

 

“I said, stop.” But Dean sucked a little harder on purpose, evoking a muffled cry from his partner. “That’s enough!” Cas let out a dry moan as he pushed the hunter’s head back with a determined motion, throwing him back on the matress. Dean glared hungrily at him, a proud smile forming around his lips. He knew he could drive his partner crazy with his insatiable sexual appetite. And he knew Cas wanted him just as much as he wanted Cas. It was just this little game they kept playing. Balancing power and defining who was in charge here. Part of this dynamic was to never actually admit _how_ bad they wanted each other. In 90% of all cases it had been a losing game for Dean. But right now, the odds were in no one’s favour – yet.

 

Cas was kneeling over Dean, tearing on his jeans to rid him off the distracting fabric. He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and fished for the bottle of lube. Impatiently, he spreaded the cool liquid over Dean’s entrance, making the hunter shudder in sweet anticipation. Cas ground his fingers against the sensitive flesh before he finally inserted one digit into the puckering hole, then two, then three. It caused Dean to wince under his touch and elicited some rather obscene grunting noises.

 

The hunter was grabbing the sheets tightly, trying to push himself deeper into the unsatisfying sensation. Cas had stopped moving his fingers completely, which made it even more frustrating. Dean yearned for more, for something that could finally bring him the sweet release he needed so badly. But the angel just occasionally stretched his fingers, gently pressing against the inside. “Cas, please… I…” Dean pleaded through clenched teeth. “I need _you_.” Somehow these exact words seemed like the biggest turn-on Cas could ever need to indulge Dean’s desperate begging. So he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself in front of the hunter. Supporting his weight with one hand, he used the other to push his cock in with one slow movement.

 

The slightly painful sensation made Dean gasp for air. He threw his head back, open-mouthed, and tore at the sheets around him. Cas picked up a steady pace and leaned in to sloppily kiss Dean on the mouth, their teeth clanging as their lips impacted with each thrust. Their fingers intertwined, sweaty palms pressed against each other. The hunter’s free hand reached around and crawled under Cas’ white shirt. He caressed the angel’s back, slightly scratching over the damp skin, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

 

Dean started panting heavily, which indicated he wasn’t going to take long anymore. So with a swift movement, Cas reached between their bodies to grab the base of the hunter’s dick. He squeezed lightly, just about enough to surpress the blood flow. “Don’t cum yet.” The angel breathed huskily against pink lips. Dean was squirming under the firm grip - he needed the release badly. Cas thrusted harder into him, his thighs slamming against the hunter’s ass. With each forward motion the angel hit that spot inside Dean that made him dizzy. Dark blonde hair was pressed into the matress while he arched his back, trying to induce a more satisfying contact. “Please…” the hunter’s voice was barely more than a whimper.

 

Cas felt his own climax approaching as well, so he let go off Dean’s cock and thrusted into him a few more times. He felt the slight tingling in his abdomen that slowly built up to an intense contraction of muscles before he came inside his lover, filling him with his release. Shortly after, Dean came as well, his eyes wide open as he arched up, trembling through the aftershock of his orgasm and splattering his semen over Cas’ belly and his own. The overwhelming sensation caught him by surprise and for a moment there, he actually saw stars. He inhaled deeply a couple of times before his breathing slowly became steady again, and he let his eyes flutter shut with post-orgasmic bliss. “That. Was. Awesome.”

 

“Yes.” Cas agreed and added with a grin “You did well.” The angel pulled himself out and lay down beside him. “Yeah well, “ Dean scoffed. “Don’t think you’ll have me begging for it next time.” They looked at each other briefly before out of nowhere, they burst out in laughter. It was truly amazing how they could go from fucking each other’s brains out to being ridiculously childish in under ten seconds. Their chuckling continued quite a while before Cas all of a sudden stopped and turned to Dean. “You know - I really think you should go and apologize to Derek and Stiles.”

 

“Oh, come on!” Dean thought he was off the hook. But it seemed like the angel never forgot anything. “Do it for me.” Cas put on the best version of his puppy eyes. He knew it drove his partner insane. And he was proven right when Dean rolled his eyes, trying to escape his look. “Fine.” He sighed in defeat. “But not because I was wrong.” Cas furrowed his brow. “Why else would you?” “Because…” The hunter hesitated. “… _you_ think I should.”

 

The angel smiled brightly and leaned in to place a kiss on Dean’s lips. “What was that for?” the hunter was clearly confused. But instead of answering the question, Cas kissed him once more, his hand slowly sliding down Dean’s chest. _They might as well go another round before lunch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have brainporned myself into oblivion while writing this @n@ But I always imagined Cas as this superior fucker, who doesn't leave out an opportunity to dominate over Dean, leaving him powerless. And PowerBottom!Dean - UGH! Hottest thing ever!
> 
> So, Dean has to go to Derek and Stiles next. Aren't you excited how that will turn out? Well you should be! But I'm not telling you ANYTHING :)
> 
> Partially beta'd. So most faults are my own. English is not my native language.  
> Please feel free to leave comments for ideas or questions.  
> Chapter 6 in progress


	4. Basement Basics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean thinks apologies can easily be done in seconds, but then he meets Derek in the basement, who doesn't exactly seem to grasp the concept of forgiving someone.

It wasn’t until a week later when Dean had finally worked up the nerve to actually apologize to Derek and Stiles. Well technically, Cas had tricked him into doing so. If it hadn’t been for that manipulative, blue-eyed son of a bitch, Dean would never approach this unnecessary matter any further. But for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, Cas always found a way to talk Dean into doing stuff he would normally just ignore.

 

It wasn’t simply that he hated to apologize to someone, he just disliked talking to people on a semi-personal level in general. It made him uncomfortable to put himself into a vulnerable position. If he ever admitted to a mistake, he could be an easy target for practically any kind of interpretation of his personality. And he really couldn’t put up with shit like that right now. Dean knew that Stiles would probably forgive him in the blink of an eye, being the kind-hearted young man he was. The mere thought of  Derek on the other hand and having to say sorry to him made Dean sick to his stomach.

 

And yet, if he was totally honest to himself, he was jealous. Sure, he was mostly pissed off when the wolf used his powers to his advantage, making Dean feel absolutely powerless and it often didn’t seem like he had been a superior hunter for a very long time. But looking at everything that Dean allegedly hated about Derek made it clear that those were in fact the traits he would love to have himself. And for now, Dean just forced himself to push anything related to the wolf into the deepest corner of his mind and concentrated on going over the little speech he prepared for Stiles, the ‘easy’ one. Starting with a small task seemed like the best idea to ease himself into the whole uncomfortable apology thing.

 

For the past few minutes, Dean had been checking basically every room in the house without any trace of either of them. Which left only one possibility – the basement. It was a mystery to him why of all places Stiles and Derek would choose to spend their time there. But then again, he figured, they probably just liked getting down and dirty all the freaking time. And who could blame them really. The basement room was loaded with a whole bunch of equipment designed solely for the purpose of  providing both pleasure and an acceptable – or necessary- amount of pain in nights of the full moon. For a brief moment Dean smiled, thinking of that one time he used to be there with Cas, trying out basically every item available. The hunter shook his head, snapping himself out of the memory and tried to focus. He just hoped he wouldn’t find Stiles and Derek doing exactly that the moment he entered the room. An apology would pretty much seem redundant if two out of three participants were naked.

 

So now the hunter made his way down to the basement, hitting the light switch as he walked down the stairs. Looking down on the concrete floor, he headed for the end of the hallway. He was about to turn around the corner when he abruptly came to a stop, colliding face-forward with Derek. The wolf was equally surprised by the sudden presence of someone other than himself “Watch it!” he exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. He was holding a six-pack of beer in his left hand and took a step backwards. ‘Great’ Dean thought. Of course he had to walk into that asshole first. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”  He said it more to himself. Sozializing with freaks of nature wasn’t exactly on his top ten list of favourite activities. Actually, this was torture. “Okay, here’s the thing.” he sighed and cleared his throat.

 

“About… the other day, you know…” - “Is there an actual sentence coming, or?” Derek interrupted him, visibly annoyed by the confused babble of the guy in front of him. “Yeah hold on!” Dean scoffed. Damn, could this guy make it any harder? “What I’m trying to say is,  that you should know that I didn’t intend to, you know…” – “…kill Stiles?” the wolf suggested. “Would you stop that?” Dean barked at him. He could at least let him finish his own sentences. “So the angel send you over to apologize as a good sign of faith, huh?” the wolf smirked viciously. He enjoyed this way too much. “He did not-“ Dean mumbled in an attempt of justifying himself, but grit his teeth when he realized his plan had just gone to the dogs – literally. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Derek grinned suspiciously, placing the six-pack on the ground.

 

“So… “ he leaned back and crossed his arms. “You really _are_ the submissive little bitch he always says you are.” The wolf’s voice echoed in Dean’s mind. “He said what now?” This could not be happening. Dean wasn’t even sure what to be more pissed about. The fact that Cas, his best friend, his lover, actually had the nerve to share intimate details about their private life with someone else, or that bastard of a werewolf that was standing in front of him, humilating him in the worst way possible. Dean could ignore a lot of things, but someone doubting or even insulting his manliness in any kind was definetely not one of them. His eyes became dark with rage. “That’s it.” he grunted, lifting his arm to strike a punch. “You son of a-“ His attack was intercepted by Derek, who was gripping his forearm tightly, making it almost impossible for Dean to wriggle himself out of it. The hunter growled in defeat when Derek’s claws slowly grew larger and sank into tanned skin, causing Dean to inhale sharply. Of course there was no way the wolf could be stronger than him unless he used his freaking powers to his advantage. _Another reason to hate werewolves._

 

Derek didn’t even flinch when Dean launched forward with his free arm in another attempt of punching him in the face. He just caught the hunter’s fist mid-air like it was the easiest thing in the world. The blue of his eyes flared into a gleaming red when he grinned victoriously at Dean. _That red_. Dean had seen it before. The different eye colors seemed to be some sort of mood indicator for werewolves. Bright ruby circles, surrounded by a fine golden ring when they were scolding the betas of their pack to teach them respect. A threatening crimson colour when they were out for revenge. But this particular shade of red, Dean had only witnessed a few times. His brow furrowed in disbelief and he tried not to look too disgusted when the realization hit him like lightning - Derek was most likely giving him that particular stare for a good reason: it was mating season in freak town.

 

Dean desperately tried to free himself from Derek’s grasp now, but failed horribly when suddenly the wolf pushed him against the wall, his paws still grasping his wrists and pinning them over the hunter’s head. Derek let go with one of his hands, probably just to show how much power he still had over Dean. The hunter wriggled under the pressure and could feel the wolf slightly move against his hips. What the hell was going on here? A hand closed around Dean’s throat . “There is really no use denying it, Winchester.” Derek breathed huskily against his lips. “I know you like it. I have seen you spread your legs for your angel a dozen times. And I bet you enjoyed every minute of it.” Dean attempted to shout curses at Derek, but the hand on his throat squeezed just a little more so all that came out was an angry growl. Dean’s lips parted to suck in what little air the wolf allowed him to breathe in. His gaze drifted sideways. He didn’t want to face the wolf while he was basically being outed as the most full-fleshed power-bottom to ever exist. But the worst part was – the hunter actually started to get a kick out of this.

 

“Well, whatta you know?” Derek laughed and stared between their bodies. An undeniable boner was showing through the fabric of Dean’s jeans. _Great._ Dean rolled his eyes and cursed himself for not having more control over his own body. Derek’s hand loosened around the hunter’s neck and he scratched lightly over the reddened skin, sending shivers down Dean’s spine, his chest and towards another, very sensitive area. “Get your fucking hands off me.” He hissed at Derek when he finally caught his breath again. But it seemed more like a challenge than an actual protest. They didn’t exactly hate each other, but they were also far from sharing this kind of experience unless it was with at least 2 other participants, so they’d never really had to even think about being involved with just each other. “Your body is speaking a whole other language.” Derek purred lowly against his ear.

 

He was right, though. There was no use denying that Dean got off on this. And now he just needed the friction to do something about it. He was hard and he could feel through his pants that Derek was too. He thrusted his hip forward to grind their bodies together, causing the wolf to inhale sharply through his fangs. Dean leaned his head against the wall to expose his neck and Derek greedily bit down, sucking the vulnurable flesh and almost breaking the skin. “Fuck…yeah” Dean sighed in content, not even caring anymore how submissive it made him sound. So he liked sex - big deal. He rocked his hips against Derek’s, hoping he would finally get more than just the grinding against too many layers of fabric. A hand, a mouth, a tongue – basically anything but that unsatisfying feeling that resulted in nothing more than his underwear being soaked in his own pre-cum. Dean’s mouth flew open with frustration. “Come on…” he almost begged. He could feel Derek’s lips curl up into a smile before he pulled back to face him. The wolf took a good look at the hunter, how his face was blushed with unfulfilled desire and he eventually decided to let go of of his wrists. The hunter let his hands immediately wander towards his crotch. He needed to touch himself unless he wanted that frustrating feeling to continue any further. But once more, Derek grabbed Dean’s wrists and gazed at him, a smug grin forming around his lips. He slowly shook his head and teased “Not yours, pretty boy. Just mine.”

 

“And how do I know you won’t just slit my throat if you don’t like what I’m doing?” Dean snorted, raising a brow at the wolf. “I guess you better don’t find out.” Derek replied, emphasizing his words with a tightening grip. But as if to reassure him, he slowly changed back from his wolf form, the red glow vanishing from his eyes. He let go of Dean and the hunter hooked his fingers under the waistband of Derek’s pants, pulling their bodies together again, their faces only inches apart. They both groaned when they felt their hard-ons press against each other. “No stalling.” The wolf commanded huskily and pushed back to let Dean unbuckle his belt. The hunter unzipped Derek’s pants and slid one hand under his boxers, cupping the sizeable dick and giving it a few good strokes, which caused the wolf to moan hoarsely in the back of his throat. Derek reached around Dean’s back to grab his ass and squeezed tightly, urging him on to pick up a faster pace. Derek could tell from the enthusiasm in Dean’s actions that he was certainly not just a usual bottom, but a true power bottom. The hunter wanted to be fucked and he knew exactly how to get there.

 

It didn’t take Derek long until he just pulled Dean’s hand out of his pants and roughly reeled the hunter around, pressing his face against the concrete wall. Dean was unable to move from this position, having Derek’s forearm pressed against his shoulders and the wolf’s crotch against his ass. He anticipated to finally be properly fucked and grinned mischievously over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the wolf’s expression. “Lose the pants.” Derek growled and Dean eagerly obliged, fumbling his belt and he slid down his pants and damp underwear. The bundle of fabric hung loosely around his knees, not really allowing him to spread his legs wide enough, but he was too impatient to actually care about it. He was already way past the point of caring about anything really - other than having a cock inside of him.

 

Derek forced Dean’s hands over his head again and pressed them against the wall with one hand, once more creating that sweet submissive feeling that Dean had been trying to struggle for so long. The wolf bucked his hips against the hunter’s ass, moving his dick up and down between the cheeks. The weight of Derek’s body was pressing Dean against the wall and he felt his own erection brush against the cold stone wall with each movement. “Son-of-a-bitch!” he moaned hoarsely and squirmed under Derek, trying to gain a more satisfying feeling on either side. The wolf reached around with his free hand to cover Dean’s mouth. He figured it would be better if Castiel didn’t hear what he was doing to his hunter. He could literally be a pain in the ass when someone had sex with Dean and he couldn’t watch. That sick angel.

 

Pushing against the hunter’s lips, Derek gently forced two fingers inside Dean’s mouth. The hunter moaned a muffled protest against the intrusion, but Derek leaned closer, whispering in his ear. “You don’t wanna go into this unprepared, do you?” Dean had to admit that he sound of Derek’s voice was both soothing and hot as fuck at the same time. Purring lowly, he started to suck off the wolf’s fingers, letting his tongue swirl around the knuckles and covering them in wet hotness. And just to add that extra bit of tension, Dean boldly decided to slightly bite down on the digits. “Don’t even think about it.” Derek hissed against his ear and pulled his fingers out of the hunter’s mouth, leaving a trail of saliva on his pink lips. “Shut up and fuck me already.” Dean moaned, his voice cracking with arousal. Derek gladly obliged by shifting sideways before he thrusted two slick fingers into the hunter’s ass. He wasn’t even surprised at how stretched Dean already was, so he entered a third and fourth digit, finger-fucking him open in a steady pace.

 

Derek didn’t give Dean much time to get acustomed to the feeling, though. After a couple more thrusts, he positioned himself behind the hunter again. He pulled the fingers out and buried himself inside Dean with one painfully slow movement. The Winchester’s mouth flew open in a silent cry and his fingernails scratched over the concrete as he was overwhelmed with the sudden sensation. Derek was huge. Like, really huge. And it felt so good. Dean swallowed dryly before he started to push back against the wolf, yearning the sweet release. He wanted to come, and he wanted it now. His cock was painfully hard and was dripping with pre-cum and he had nothing except the wall in front of him to provide him with any friction. So Dean rocked back and forth, caught between hard thrusts and the scratching of rough concrete against his skin. God, he was so close, but not nearly close enough.

 

Derek seemed to have realized how the hunter was squirming under him, so he let go of his hands. He grabbed Dean’s hips and pulled him back from the wall, just enough to have him lean against the cold stone in an awkward angle. This way he could make sure the hunter couldn’t touch himself, because he obviously needed his hands to support his weight. The wolf pulled himself out of Dean completely, eliciting a disappointed grunt from the hunter. He shoved Dean’s pants further down to his ankles, allowing him to spread his legs just a little more. He stood behind Dean and pushed inside again, this time a lot more careless. The hunter gasped and for a moment he thought his knees would give out under him. It was a whole lot of sensations to consume at once. And the worst part was that now he wasn’t even able to take care of his painfully hard dick. He already had a hard time not losing his balance under Derek’s steady thrusts as it was. So there was no way he was going to collapse in the middle of whatever it was that was happening here. But damn! He needed to come.

 

Derek pushed Dean’s upper body down a bit more, and that was when it happened. He hit that sweet spot inside the hunter, with each thrust sending sparks up his spine. “Holy fuck!” the hunter exclaimed, evidentally caught by surprise. Derek continued to push against that same spot over and over, making Dean moan loudly under him. The wolf gripped the hunter’s shirt and yanked him back in an upright position. He reached around, firmly grasping Dean’s cock. Derek had barely given it a good squeeze when the hunter trembled and came into his hand, shuddering while his orgasm hit him hard and he let his head drop back onto Derek’s shoulder for support. The wolf thrusted into Dean a few more times. The feeling of muscles contracting around his dick and that greedy bottom bitch in front of him was enough to finally send him over the edge as well. He repeatedly pushed into Dean’s tight ass, sinking his teeth into the hunter’s neck while his body almost automatically worked itself through the aftershocks of his climax.

 

They both stood there for a moment, Derek almost embracing Dean as they tried to catch their breath again. The hunter was still leaning against the shoulder behind him, his head turned slightly towards Derek’s. “Hmm.” The wolf sighed thoughtfully, leaning closer to press his lips against Dean’s. The hunter was visibly surprised. A strange mixture of confusion and indifference graced his features when Derek suddenly deep-tongue kissed him, with eyes closed and the whole shebang. Derek pulled back just seconds later, a dirty grin on his face. “Aplogy accepted.”

 

Dean looked at him, the confusion finally taking over completely. Was he fucking serious? But instead of getting an answer he could only feel the warmth of Derek’s body disappear behind him when the wolf pulled himself out of him. Derek zipped his pants and casually picked up his six-pack of beer from the ground, while Dean was still staring at him, open-mouthed and shaking. Derek gave him a sympathetic clap on the shoulder “Good talk, Winchester.” he teased, before he made his way out of the basement, leaving Dean standing there like a complete idiot. An idiot with his pants around his ankles and cum stains on his legs. It was hardly any comfort to know that probably no one had witnessed this incident. Maybe Dean’s mind would have been at ease if he had known what happened next.

 

Derek was just getting up the stairs when he saw a figure blocking his way. Shit. “Cas.” He tried to make it sound as casual as possible. But he could tell from the squinty eyes that the angel most likely already knew what had just happened. “Derek.” Cas answered in almost the same uncomfortable tone. “You know where Dean is?” “Yeah he -uhm… was just downstairs, apologizing for that thing with Stiles.” Derek figured it was no use lying too much. “Yeah, I know…” Cas remarked and Derek could swear his eyes had gotten even squintier with suspicion.  “We’re gonna have a talk about that later.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I like to picture bottom!Dean with a half-wolf-form!Derek and it's so hot *w* I hope you are as excited as I am about how their story will continue :)
> 
> Not beta'd. So all faults are my own. English is not my native language.  
> Please feel free to leave comments for ideas or questions.  
> Chapter 6 in progress.


	5. Showers and Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles confronts Derek and demands to change his behaviour. He does not expect the wolf's answer.

Stiles' eyes were fixed on the screen. Music was blaring out of his headphones while he scrolled down a website. He didn’t really know what he was looking for but he could spend hours researching and looking up random stuff on the internet. It was not like his knowledge hadn’t helped in the past, however useless it might have seemed in the beginning. It had taken him a long time to actually figure out his strength but once he embraced it, no one could ever take that away from him. Especially since he seemed to be the only one around who didn’t have any kind of supernatural power or battle skills whatsoever. So he was a bit of a geek – big deal.

 

Admittedly, discussing character development on a MMORPG forum wasn’t something most people would call an ability worth mentioning. But Stiles didn’t care. He had only a few things he really loved and this was one of them. The real world was much scarier than any movie or game ever made anyway. At least in this virtual reality people seemed to like him for who he was, because they were just normal people. With normal people problems and normal people lives.

 

The light of the screen reflected from his glasses as he scrolled past forum entries, mouthing the titles and chuckling dorkily when he found a subject to be specifically hilarious. “How do I stop my character from constantly dying?” he scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t let him die, stupid.” He rolled is eyes and closed the tab. All of a sudden his headphones were lifted from one ear and he could hear Derek’s annoyed voice. “I said, what are you doing?” “Holy mother of god!” Stiles exclaimed and almost fell off his chair. “You scared the hell out of me”

 

“So?” “So… what?” Stiles raised a brow. “What are you doing?” Derek repeated and pulled Stiles’ headphones off his head completely. “Ow ow ow ow” the younger one whined when some of his hair got caught in the cable. He stopped complaining however when he noticed that Derek didn’t seem to care. “I was just looking up some stuff. Nothing you’d be interested in anyway, so don’t bother.” he growled and turned around. “Oh, give me a break Stiles.” Derek hissed. “Why do you always have to do that?” “Do what?” Stiles asked, visibly confused. “Exactly. That.” Derek answered and they stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Stiles broke eye contact first and finally replied in his typical sarcastic tone. “Yeah… Derek, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Derek seemed honestly pissed off now. “I ask you a simple question and all you do is pretend I don't care”“Well.” Stiles laughed. “ _You_ are the one telling me how stupid I am all the time, so…” “That’s not what I was talking about. And it’s not the same.” Was this guy serious? This was starting to get ridiculous. “Jesus Christ… Yes, Derek. It is. If I remember correctly we have been over this whole subject of ‘relationship talks’” he air-quoted the term. “at least a thousand times, so just go ahead and tell me what a shitty little smart-ass kid I am and that I waste your time with romantic nonsense and then we can cut right to the part where I snap back at you and tell you what a god damn sourwolf you can be and how I wish you would just...“ Stiles suddenly broke off mid-sentence, averting Derek's gaze. “Just what?” Derek squinted at him.

 

“Just what, Stiles?” he asked again and stepped closer, making Stiles feel incredibly cornered in his chair so that the teen had to lean back awkwardly, very well aware of how ridiculous this must have seemed if you considered the seriousness of the situation. “I wish you would just-“ Stiles hesitated.“be a little more sensitive?!” he eventually suggested, quickly raising his arms in defence. Stiles was pretty sure that asking Derek to be a softie had to be in his personal top ten of things to never say out loud again. Ever. He was a hundred percent preparing to most likely be hit for what he had just said. But Derek surprised him.“Okay.” the wolf said after a while. ”I can try.”

 

“Wait, what?” Stiles slowly blinked through one eye, still anticipating at least a scolding slap on the back of his head. But he didn’t imagine this. Derek's answer remained the same. “If that’s what you want, okay.” he repeated. “I'll just hit the shower now and we can talk about this afterwards. Okay?” “Talk about this…” Stiles mouthed the words, still in total disbelief of what he had just heard. He stared at Derek, unable to form a proper sentence. “Yeah, I’ll just, you know – sit here and, erm, do stuff and yeah, uhm. Okay, so s-see you later.” he muttered while he watched Derek walk into the bathroom. “Wait, actually-” he said while practically jumping up to follow him. “There is something I’d like to start with right now.”

 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Derek casually asked while he pulled his tank top over his head. Stiles swallowed nervously. “You could tell me where you’ve been.” Derek threw his top on the floor and turned around with a sigh. “Don’t you trust me?” he smiled innocently. Stiles wanted to say ‘No of course not. You’re a freaking werewolf who fucks everything that walks’ but instead he could barely manage some incoherent babble while being exposed to Derek’s flawless upper body. Damn, he was so attractive, it just made Stiles weak to his knees sometimes. “Well,“ he cleared his throat. “I do, sort of… But if this is going to work, I need to be sure you don’t keep secrets from me.” Derek's smile widened to a smug grin. “Look at you... All manned up and demanding. What else would you have me do while you're at it, huh?” his face came close enough so Stiles could actually feel Derek’s breath against his lips. God, he wanted to kiss him so badly right now. But he was not going to waste this opportunity to actually get Derek talking. Not today. No sir.

 

Stiles took a determined step backwards. _“Talk_ you said. So let’s talk.” “Fine.” Derek raised his hands in apology and also stepped back. “Was it Dean again?” Stiles asked right away. Derek hummed in confirmation. “Okay...” Stiles nodded, but pouted at little. “Why?” he wanted to know. “Why is it always him?” Derek said nothing. “No really, tell me. Why Dean? Okay, he is hot. I'll give you that. And what? Probably more your age, huh?” The wolf raised a brow at him. But Stiles wasn't finished. “Just two guys sharing an equal amount of life experience or something? Or maybe you even discovered that you are _so_ much alike and now you just want to-” “Shut up Stiles.” Derek stopped him. “I'll tell you why. Because he’s a great fuck.” Stiles looked hurt. “Oh, this is just fan-freaking-tastic. Why do we even call this a relationship then if you just substitute me whenever you feel like it. That’s not a relationship, Derek. That’s just fucking.”

 

Derek stared at him for a moment “You're special. You should know that.” And Stiles wanted to believe him. But he just had enough of this. “Oh so I am special?” he parroted. “So what?You cuddle with me? Big deal! You also cuddle with Dean. - And don’t try to tell me again you were drunk. _He_ might have been, but _you_ can’t get drunk because- newsflash- you’re a freaking werewolf okay?”

 

“This is really important to you, isn’t it.” Derek asked, and he almost appeared genuinely concerned. “No shit, Sherlock!” Stiles mocked and continued his rant. “What is so great about Dean anyway? Does he make you a big pancake breakfast afterwards so you don’t have to chew on bunnies or whatever it is you werewolves eat? Oh and is he also doing your laundry? Because I know _I_ am. Hell, I don’t even do my own laundry, okay? So let me ask you again, Derek. What exactly is it that _you_ contribute to this so-called relationship?”

 

There was an uncomfortable silence as they both just stared at each other, an incredible tension in the room. With a growl Derek angrily unbuttoned his pants and kicked them off his legs along with his underwear. “You’re the science geek, go figure it out.” He snorted and stepped into the shower.

 

Okay, so this might have been a little harsh. After all, Stiles did want this relationship -or whatever it was- to last a little longer. “I’m sorry.” He muttered and leaned his head against the sliding door, his fingers tracing a pattern onto the glass. “You know how I get when I start to freak out.” Instead of getting an answer, the shower door was pushed open and Stiles’ glasses immediately steamed up. “Get in.” Derek said briefly. His hair was clinging to his forehead and water dripped down his stubbled chin. He pulled Stiles’ glasses off and hooked them in the teen's chest pocket. Then he vanished into the steam again.

 

Stiles seemed paralysed, wondering if Derek had seriously just suggested to have make-up sex in the shower or if he was planning to have the most awkwardly situated family crisis meeting in history. His head started spinning because he just couldn't think of a logical explanation, so he simply started to unbutton his shirt and simultaneously tried to get rid of his pants which almost made him fall over. Bouncing around awkwardly, he balanced on one foot, still struggling with the usually simple task of undressing. He tripped over his pants and fell backwards, grabbing the dresser behind him as if he was clinging on to dear life. In the process he clumsily knocked over some products which filled the tiled room with various bangs and crashs. “What the hell are you doing out there?” Derek asked irritated. “Uhm, nothing. I-I just. Hold on, be right in.” Stiles replied nervously with his head stuck somewhere between sleeves and buttons. Luckily enough he then managed to undress without any further incidents. He threw his bundle of clothes carelessly on the floor and took a deep breath. Then he stepped inside the steamy cubicle.

 

Derek was facing the opposite wall and looked over his shoulder when he noticed Stiles getting in behind him. He shifted a little so they could share the water stream. They had one of those fancy giant shower heads that made you feel like you were in the rainforest or something. At least Stiles always pretended to be. But right here, right now, it was just him and Derek and not a lot of personal space in between. Stiles was still pretty much motionless and peeked sideways at Derek's torso. Every drop of water seemed to retrace the wolf's muscular shoulder blades and the further down they came, the more they joined with other drops to run down his spine in an almost symmetrical little stream. Stiles followed the flow of the water and his gaze was inevitably directed towards Derek's perfectly shaped butt cheeks. He leaned back just a little more to get a better look. It was mesmerizing.

 

“Stiles. Hey. Stiles!” Derek waved a sponge in front of him. Stiles shook his head like he had been hallucinating. “Huh yeah, what? I- I'm awake!” he said nonchalantly. Derek knew all too well what the teen had been thinking about but nonetheless he regarded him with a radiating smile. Which- to be honest- didn't much help with Stiles being absolutely incapable of both speech and motion. “Good.” Derek said and handed him the sponge. “Then you can help me wash my back.” It hadn't been the first time they showered together, but to Stiles it was almost as if he had never seen Derek naked before. He couldn't help but sigh in adoration when he directed the sponge over Derek's perfectly tanned skin. 'Must be the damn post- puberty hormones or something' he thought, realizing that he was already getting hard just from washing this guy's back. Stiles had a pretty vivid imagination, so Derek without clothes mostly suggested that they were about to have sex. It was like conditioning a dog to sit down every time he was about to get food. Only that in Stiles' case he couldn't possibly keep anything down. Not if he expected to have his appetite satisfied.

 

Somehow he managed to finish cleaning Derek's back without actually coming untouched. When Derek turned around to face Stiles againhe could not unsee the 'condition' showing between the teen's legs. “Stiles.” he smirked. “We are not going to have sex in here.” Stiles' face flushed red. “What? Nonono, I was just- It's not like I'm trying to or anything, you know...” he instantly decided that shutting up would probably be the best choice here so he just sighed and silently handed over the sponge. Before Stiles turned on the spot, he had however realized that Derek seemed not to be at all in a similar state of arousal. Which admittedly did kind of bother him. How could he not be? With their bodies practically inches apart, giving him goosebumps all over. And despite the hot stream that covered their silhouettes in this watery cocoon. Stiles didn't move while Derek poured soapy water over his back, rubbing slightly against his skin. “Why not?” he asked after a while. “Why not what?” Derek replied. “Why don't you want to have sex with me?”

 

“Are you serious?” the wolf asked, audibly irritated. When Stiles didn't reply, he turned him around by his shoulders to directly look at him. “Are you seriously asking me why I am NOT having sex with you right now?” Stiles swallowed dryly, then looked away. “I thought that's what's bothering you. That it's all about the sex.” “Now you're just twisting my words.” Stiles tried to maintain a serious tone to his voice but it was shaking nonetheless. Yes, this subject bothered him more than he would like to admit. “All I meant was that I don't like how you always pretend I am 'special' but now that there is an actual what-I-call opportunity to have some intimacy, you just ignore it. I just can't believe I am that important to you when you don't even seem to care who is beneath you.” Derek furrowed his brows. He seemed genuinely hurt. “Okay Stiles, then let me ask you. Why do you think I don't go showering with anyone else? Or sleep in the same bed? We had an agreement if you remember.” Stiles still avoided his gaze. “We agreed that we can be involved _sexually_ with others as long as we come home to each other, right? So yeah, maybe I don't want to have sex with you right now. But guess what: Sex is just sex, Stiles. But this here, this is much more intimate, don't you think?” Stiles could feel Derek's gaze without even looking up once. “Look at me.” He tilted Stiles' chin up so the shorter one had to meet his eyes. “I love you, Stiles. I really need you to accept that eventually.”

 

Stiles sighed in defeat. Derek had told him before but he almost forgot that they were an actual couple. Especially with everything that had happened with Cas and Dean. This 'agreement' Derek spoke of was nothing else than an outlet for all of their fantasies. And since they all got along and _mostly_ respected certain boundaries, everybody got the maximum of fun with a minimum of bullshit. Stiles had always liked older men and on top of that discovered very early his distinct tendency towards being submissive and enjoying the hell out of it. But Derek was his anchor. And he was his. He knew it. Sometimes he doubted it and then they ended up arguing just like they were doing now. Eventually Derek managed to calm him down again but it seemed to become more and more difficult to convince Stiles of his sincerity.

 

“You hear me? I love you, Stiles. And I'll find a way to make you believe. Just give me some time to think of something, okay?” Stiles stared at Derek, bewildered. He was serious about this. “Okay.” he replied softly and Derek smiled at him before he gently breathed a kiss on his lips. He didn't want Stiles to change his mind about this.

 

Later that evening everything seemed to have calmed down, even though both of them knew that there were definitely some unresolved issues between them. At least they had agreed that their relationship status hadn't changed but Stiles knew that even if Derek seemed expressionless most of the time, he was still thinking about 'proving' to Stiles that he loved him. That he trusted him. But Stiles had sworn to himself that he would try not to engage in another argument and instead let Derek make the first move whenever he was ready. He knew these things didn't come easy to the older one.

 

When Stiles got to the bedroom, Derek was already lying on his side, a lamp on the night stand dipped the room in a comfortable warmth. Stiles crawled under the sheets beside Derek but turned his back to him, still feeling a lot awkward about their argument earlier. Once again, the air was tingling with tension and Stiles could swear he could actually hear Derek think. They lay next to each other like this for at least another thirty minutes. From time to time, Stiles started to form a sentence, but then decided to just leave the matter alone and literally sleep at least one night on this. Just as he was about to fall asleep, Stiles felt Derek shift behind him and he was suddenly wrapped in a backward embrace.

 

The teen immediately felt a blush crawl up his cheeks as Derek's stubble brushed against his neck. His breath felt warm against Stiles' skin and he was sure that he had never been this nervous in his entire life. He didn't know what was going to happen next and already played out the various scenarios in his head. After a while, Stiles found a way to just switch off his thoughts and leaned back against the warmth of Derek's body, feeling sleepy and content. “Stiles?” Derek purred after a while and Stiles twitched, having been almost asleep by now. “Hmm?” he replied drowsily. “You know, I would rather chew on bunnies for the rest of my life than have Dean make me breakfast again.” “What?” Stiles was too tired to process what he was hearing and just occasionally reacted. But Derek continued to talk to him, quietly. “There are worse things I can imagine. A lot of things I wouldn't let Dean do. Ever” “Like what?” Stiles yawned. “Like... having my ass handed to him. Literally.” Stiles chuckled when his imagination drew him a very vivid picture. “What are you saying Derek?” he mumbled. “I'm saying...” Derek hesitated. “That maybe you could top me next time.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am surprised I didn't turn this into a shower sex scene XD But I DO love the ending muahaha Didn't see that coming, huh poor Stiles?
> 
> Not beta'd. So all faults are my own. English is not my native language.  
> Please feel free to leave comments for ideas or questions.  
> Chapter 6 in progress  
> STESTIEL FOREVER

**Author's Note:**

> Partially beta'd. So basically all faults are my own. English is not my native language.  
> Please feel free to leave comments for ideas or questions.  
> Chapter 6 in progress
> 
> STESTIEL FOREVER


End file.
